Accident (20 page)

P
age met the chief neurosurgeon outside ICU. There had been no improvement since the night before, so she signed the papers, and then went in to see her daughter. Allyson was still deeply comatose, all of the machines and monitors were on, but Page still managed to have a quiet moment with her. At that hour, there were no other visitors in ICU, and the nurses left them alone. They could monitor Allyson from the desk, where they could keep an eye on her monitors through their own screens and computers. Page sat quietly next to her, holding her hand and talking to her, touching her cheek from time to time, and she kissed her gently when they took her away at nine-thirty.

It was a long, lonely wait then, knowing that she was being prepared for surgery, and that if the operation was not successful, she clearly wouldn't make it. The pressure on her brain would cause extensive damage eventually, and the fractures and wounds could not heal with the ongoing trauma of the pressure.

Dr. Hammerman had told her that the operation would take eight to ten hours, and would once again be performed by the same team. It was almost routine, but in truth, it wasn't. It was terribly frightening. She had to fight to let herself think of the outcome. She couldn't allow herself to think of what might happen in the operating room, or if they came to tell her Allyson had died. She just couldn't bear it.

She looked anxious and pale when Brad finally arrived. He was half an hour later than he had said, but he had come, just as he'd promised.

“Did they say anything?” he asked anxiously.

“Nothing new,” she said softly. And then, “She looked so sweet just lying there, before they took her. I keep wanting to wake her up, but she doesn't.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she turned away from him. She no longer wanted to burden him with her feelings. She had lost her trust in him, and the openness they had always shared. It was as though he were someone else now. It was strange how you could lose someone so easily, how everything could change in a matter of moments. But she tried not to let herself think of that either, as they waited.

It was a long day, as they waited in the ICU waiting room, on uncomfortable chairs, amidst a constantly changing group of strangers. She and Brad said very little to each other all day. He was very quiet, and unusually patient with her, almost as though he felt obliged to be polite to her. They reminisced once or twice about Allie a little, but it was just too painful. Most of the time, they sat quietly, lost in their own thoughts, saying nothing to each other.

They finally went to get sandwiches in the cafeteria at four in the afternoon, and there was still no news. They told the nurse where they were going, and they ran into Trygve in the lobby. He wished them luck, and then went upstairs to see Chloe, and they didn't see him again after that. The Clarkes stayed to themselves in the small airless waiting room, watching the clock, and waiting to hear from the surgeon.

He finally came in at six-fifteen, and by then they both looked like they were ready to collapse from the endless tension. It had been yet another day filled with terror for them.

“How is she?” Brad leapt to his feet and met the doctor's eyes head-on, but the doctor nodded in satisfaction.

“She did better than we expected.”

“What does that mean?” Brad challenged him instantly, as Page sat tensely and listened. She thought that if she stood up, she might swoon, so she didn't move, she just sat there.

“It means that she survived, her vital signs are good. She gave us a little scare early on, but she rallied. We relieved as much pressure as we could. It was somewhat worse than we had suspected. But there's still every reason to believe she could make a full recovery, or close to it. We just have to wait and see how she does now, and of course how long she remains in the coma. Actually, we want her pretty subdued now, and she's being medicated accordingly. She needs that to allow her brain to repair, but in a few weeks we'll need to reevaluate her position.”

“A few weeks?” Brad looked horrified. “You expect her to stay in a coma for a few weeks?”

“It's possible …and not unlikely. In fact, longer than that wouldn't rule out a successful result, Mr. Clarke. This kind of injury requires a lot of patience.” Brad rolled his eyes and the surgeon smiled, and then looked down at Page. “She did fine, Mrs. Clarke,” he said gently, “she's not out of danger yet, by any means, but we're one step further, one more day, she survived one more enormous trauma. It's an encouraging sign. Of course we still have to wait to see the extent of her recovery, what lasting impact the trauma may have had, if any. But we're still a long way from there.” They still had to wait and see if she even survived it. She could still die very easily, and they all understood that. “She'll be in the recovery room overnight again. You may want to go home. We can call you there if there's any problem.”

“Do you expect there to be?” Page asked in a choked voice, and the surgeon hesitated for an instant before he answered.

“No, but we have to be realistic. This is her second major surgery in four days, she's withstood a great deal of trauma, both in surgery and from the accident. This adds further jeopardy to her status, until she stabilizes of course. She's doing well, but we're watching her very closely.”

“More so than after the last operation?” Page asked, and he nodded.

“She's weaker than she was. But we're hopeful about the outcome.”

“Hopeful.” Page had come to hate the word, and she had understood what he was saying. Allie was doing well, but the operation might have been too much for her. She could still die at any moment.

He left them after a few minutes and Brad sighed and sat down, and looked at her. They were like two people who had almost drowned and were lying breathless on the beach after the terror of it.

“It knocks the shit out of you, doesn't it? I feel like I climbed Everest today, and all I did was sit here,” Brad said miserably.

“I'd rather be climbing Everest,” Page said sadly, and he smiled at her.

“So would I. But she did okay. That's all we can ask for right now.” He thought of all the things he had said about not wanting her to survive if she was going to be seriously brain damaged, and suddenly he knew he didn't care. He just wanted her to live …just for another hour …another day …and maybe in the end, they'd get lucky. “Do you want to come home?” he asked, but Page shook her head.

“I want to stay here.”

“Why? They won't let you see her, you know. And they said they'd call us if there's a problem.”

“I just feel better being here.” She couldn't put it into words, but she knew she had to be there. It had been that way when Andy was in the incubator too. There were times when she knew she had to be near him. And she felt that way now. Whether they let her see Allie in the recovery room or not, she wanted to be there, in the hospital, near her. “You should go home to Andy though. He must be worried.” After his nightmare the night before, they were both more concerned about him than they had been. That afternoon she had even called his pediatrician, who said that the anxiety and the nightmares were to be expected. Allie's accident was as traumatic for him as for them, possibly even more so. The doctor had also told Page how sorry he was about Allyson's condition.

“Are you sure you don't want me to stay here with you?” Brad asked quietly before he left her, but she shook her head and thanked him. It had been difficult sitting there with him all day, there was so much she wanted to say, so many questions she wanted to ask him. How long had it been this way? Why had he lied? …why wasn't she enough? …didn't he love her? It was pointless though, and she knew it. She forced herself not to say anything. But her stomach hurt all afternoon. He looked as handsome as he always had, except that he was no longer hers, he was someone else's. And when she looked at him, it was like looking at a stranger. They had been polite to each other all day, and she'd been glad he was there, but they didn't really dare talk to each other anymore, not about anything that mattered.

“Tell Andy I love him,” she said as he left. He nodded, waved, and was gone, and told her he'd call her in the morning. And then she went back to her vigil in the quiet room, realizing that Brad had neither touched her nor kissed her when he left. Somehow, the connection between them had been broken.

Trygve stopped in to see her briefly in the waiting room with Bjorn, but he could see she wasn't in the mood for conversation. She looked worried and sad, and Bjorn wanted to know where her daughter was, and if her legs were hurt like Chloe's. She explained to him that Allie's head was hurt and not her legs, and he said he had had a headache once too, and he was very sorry to hear it about Allie.

They left Page some sandwiches, and Trygve squeezed her arm as they left, and looked at her. She looked very small and thin and very tired.

“Hang in there,” he said softly. She nodded, as tears filled her eyes, but once she was alone again, she felt more peaceful. Sometimes people's kindness made it worse. She cried every time they said how sorry they were about Allie.

It was a long night as she lay on the couch in the small room, and she had more time to think than she had had in a long time. She thought about Brad and how happy they had been …about when Allie had been born, and how sweet she had been. She closed her eyes and saw herself in their house in the city. It had been a mess when they bought it, but she had fixed it up, and it was beautiful by the time they sold it.

She thought about the house in Marin, and when Andy was born, so terrifyingly tiny. But again and again, her thoughts went back to Allyson. It was as though the child she had been were standing in the room …the things she had said …the way she had looked …and Page was not surprised when the nurse came to get her just after midnight. It was as though she knew. She had felt Allyson in the room with her, and when the nurse opened the door, Page was instantly on her feet and knew that she was needed.

“Mrs. Clarke?”

“Yes?” It was like something in a dream, she couldn't believe this was happening to her, but it was. She couldn't deny it.

“Allyson is having complications from the surgery.”

“Has the surgeon been called?” Page's face was very white as she asked her.

“He's on his way now; But I thought you might like to see her. She's still in recovery, but I'll take you up if you like.”

“I'd like that …” And then, she looked at her honestly. “Is she … is she dying?”

The nurse hesitated, but only for a moment. “She seems to be fading …she's not doing well, Mrs. Clarke, I think she might be.” And so did the recovery room nurses. They had called the surgeon immediately but they didn't even think she'd be alive by the time he got there.

“Do I have time to call my husband?” She was surprised at the sound of her own voice. She felt strangely calm, as though now she knew what to expect. She had been waiting for this, without knowing. She had been there when Allie had been born, and now she would be there when she left. Her eyes filled with tears, but she felt calm as the nurse shook her head and walked to the elevator with her.

“I think you'd better get upstairs. We'll call your husband for you if you like. We've got the number.” She hated for him to hear it from a nurse, it would have been kinder to call him herself, but she didn't want to miss Allie. This wasn't a moment that would come again, and she wanted to say good-bye to her. She knew now that no matter how far away she seemed, Allie would hear her.

They put a gown and mask on her just outside the recovery room and she followed another nurse inside, and then she saw her. She lay surrounded by machines, her head swathed in bandages as it had been before, but suddenly now she looked very small and peaceful. “Hi, sweetheart,” Page whispered as she stood next to her. She was crying but she wasn't sad suddenly, she was just happy to see her. “Daddy and I love you so much … I want you to know that …and so does Andy. He misses you, and so do I … we all do … we miss you a lot …but I know that you're always with us …” A nurse brought her a stool then and she sat down, and took one of Allie's hands in hers. It seemed very frail and clawlike. Her fingers were rigid and her arms were stiff, which was part of the reaction from her brain being so disturbed. It was also part of why Page hadn't wanted Andy to see her. The results of the accident were just too upsetting.

“We called your husband,” a nurse whispered to her, as Page quietly held Allie's hand and stroked it.

“Is he coming?” Page asked calmly. She didn't feel frightened anymore, she just felt peaceful, and closer than she ever had to Allie. They were together now, mother and child, bonded forever, in a moment that meant as much, in its own way, as her birth had. In some ways, this was no different.

It was a beginning, and an end. They had completed the circle. Sooner than they'd planned. But they were still there together.

“He said he didn't want to leave your son.” Page nodded, knowing he could have called Jane, but he was afraid to come and she understood that. She accepted it now. Brad did not want to face this moment. The nurse touched Page's shoulder then and gave her a little squeeze. She had seen a lot of this, but it was never easy, particularly with children.

“Allie?” Page whispered to her then. “Sweetheart …everything's okay …don't be scared …and I'll always be here if you need me.” She had wanted to tell her that. Allyson had always been reluctant about new places, and now she was going to one, and Page couldn't be there to help her. But she would be with her in spirit, just as Allyson would stay with her mother.

“Mrs. Clarke?” It was Dr. Hammerman, she hadn't heard him approach her. “We're losing her,” he said softly.

“I know.” She was crying and didn't even know it. She looked at him with a smile and a look in her eyes that tore his heart out.

“We did everything we could. The damage is very great. I thought maybe she'd make it this afternoon, but …I'm sorry …” He stood nearby, not to intrude, and kept an eye on the monitors. He checked her pulses himself, looked at several tapes from the monitors, and consulted with the nurses. He didn't think she would last more than a few minutes. And he felt very sorry for the mother. “Mrs. Clarke?” he asked finally. “Can we do anything? Is there anything you'd like? A priest?”